Destinies
by Slayerbelle
Summary: Sequel to "Protection". Set way back in season 2 pre-Darla, continuing the story of Angel and the girl chosen to protect him.
1. Under The Cloak

Disclaimer:   
These characters don't belong to me, but to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and all related entities with a rightful claim to them. Aurora is a character I have created myself, placed in their universe.  
  
This is the sequel to "Protection". While I do a bit of exposition here, I suggest people look up the first one too, just to get a clearer view of what's going on.  
  
This story takes place some time after Are You Now or Have You Ever Been, and one month after the events in "Protection". Charles Gunn does not appear, but only because I still can't find a way to fit him in.  
  
Special dedications to indigo, Beautyone and Dee, who left sweet and inspiring notes and reviews for the "Protection" fic. Though this story was always in some form in my head, the encouragement helped.  
  
Send feedback please to slayerbelle@go.com  
  
Destinies  
  
Chapter 1  
"Under the Cloak"  
  
These visions she had, they used to be as often as twice a week. And then they dwindled eventually, to once a month, once every few months, until they had become so rare that she had to ask herself if she didn't just imagine it.  
  
They came to Aurora Halley in her sleep, very painlessly. She would find herself in a room with red velvet walls. It would feel like she was moving in slow motion -- time didn't have as much an impact here. She would have dozed off for ten minutes and get an entire vision before the alarm snooze wore off.  
  
She was standing in the room, alone. For a long time. At some point she would be seeing something in the room -- because that's how the visions went, that's how she found out what she was supposed to do. But this time she was alone, standing in the center of the empty red room. Standing alone for a long time.  
  
"Hello?" she called out. Her voice didn't even echo, the room was too small.  
  
She heard a creak behind her and she turned. A door she had never seen before materialized from one of the walls and opened, a bright light shining outside it.  
  
She stared at it.  
  
And then woke up.  
  
====  
  
"Wesley, it's three in the morning. You'd better rest."  
  
Wesley looked up from the desk and saw his boss eyeing him -- also the desk piled with papers and the half empty pot of coffee next to him. He didn't even realize it was that late. "Angel. I..."  
  
"Since when have you been at this?"  
  
"Oh, um, around noon yesterday." He took off his glasses and tried to shake the fatigue off his head. "I just had a breakthrough on one of the characters... I thought it was important."  
  
Ever since they had gotten the Feuralian Knife in their possession a month ago Wesley had been working steadily, more devotedly than Angel had ever seen -- and Wesley wasn't one to slack off to begin with. The small silver knife lying casually on the cluttered desk was engraved with important inscriptions that Wesley believed was a key -- to translating certain passages in the Scroll of Aberjian.  
  
Angel wanted him to give it a rest for a while, but Wesley seemed so gung-ho about the whole thing. "Anything interesting?"  
  
The former Watcher hesitated, taking the time to clear his throat and wear his eyeglasses again. "I'm on the brink of something very interesting, actually. There's this passage written entirely in what I'm guessing is a demon language, which I never was able to decipher before. Thanks to the Feuralian Knife, I was able to... make some discoveries." Wesley paused at this. "It mentions you again, I believe."  
  
"What about me?"  
  
"Um, I have my notes here... but let me just warn you that this is a very crude translation. I have no idea what kind of semantics and system of idioms this demon language had." He picked up a notebook filled with hasty scribbles, reading not verbatim, but from context. "That the vampire with a soul shall walk alone, but his soul is one with..."  
  
"With?"  
  
"I did warn you that this is a very crude translation..."  
  
"My soul is one with?"  
  
Wesley looked up at him. "The woman who is chosen."  
  
Buffy. He already knew the name would instantly pop into his head, and Wesley knew it too.  
  
"I don't know what that means," Wesley quickly said. "My translation of the whole sentence is questionable at best... but this is what I have so far."  
  
Wesley was trying not to give him false hopes, but Angel knew better than to make any for himself right now. He appreciated his friend's effort, though.  
  
He smiled. "This is all you've figured out in a month?"  
  
"Well, no," Wesley said defensively, riffling the notebook a couple of pages forward. "The passage, I believe, isn't actually about you, but is about Buf--this woman. There is a word that recurs throughout the passage, which I've managed to translate into the ancient Rumaji word 'Liware' -- meaning light. Or wisdom, or brightness, or beauty. This 'liware' shall follow the woman who is chosen and will give her a gift. Er... something like that."  
  
"You think this woman is Buffy."  
  
"What? Well, no. I can't really say."  
  
"You just said her name."  
  
"I did not."  
  
Angel realized this early morning conversation was going to take longer than originally planned, so he pulled up a chair. "I don't mind if you think it's her, Wesley. I think it's her too."  
  
"Angel, we can't totally put our faith in this... this is just too hard to verify and I don't want, well, let's just say I got the Shanshu prophecy wrong the first time and I could just as wrong here."  
  
"But for the sake of argument." Angel gently picked up the Scroll and looked at the passage they were talking about. "This could be important news to Buffy. This, this liware. What will it be? Enlightenment?"  
  
"Well, um, the word generally is translated directly as 'light' or 'brightness', but has been used also as synonyms for many words like wisdom, beauty, sometimes even love."  
  
"But this is good news for her."  
  
Wesley sighed. "Well yes... so far. It all sounds good."  
  
"Good then." Angel started rolling up the Scroll. "Now go home. I don't want you burning yourself out over good news."  
  
====  
  
He had rolled up the Scroll but didn't deposit it back into the weapons safe as he had intended. Alone in the Hyperion Hotel now, he took out the old piece of parchment and stared at it.  
  
Just words. And yet for some reason, these simple words charted destinies. His own. Cordelia's. Wesley's. Buffy's life had been governed at one time or another by prophecies as well. Someone in the past may have arbitrarily written a poem that was now determining the course of his life.   
  
One of these passages had already promised him redemption, but it was an end that was so far out of sight he didn't even dream it to be true. But he allowed himself the minimum of hoping, nothing more.  
  
At sunrise he heard the doors to the hotel open, and footsteps -- not the light step of Wesley nor the perky tapping of Cordelia -- echoed in the room. Angel tensed for a second and then relaxed, realizing to whom the steps belonged.  
  
He rolled up the Scroll and tucked it into the drawer of the desk, and then met his visitor in the lobby.  
  
Lindsey McDonald, junior partner at the law firm of Wolfram and Hart, was already sitting on the couch. "I'm glad I caught you before bedtime, Angel."  
  
"You don't want to get your blood on your suit before you even get to work, Lindsey."  
  
Lindsey stood up. "On the contrary, I'm on my way home from work. Had some special deliveries done late in the night. You're my last stop." He paused to retrieve something from his briefcase, which was lying on its side on top of the coffee table.   
  
A wide brown envelope. With the Wolfram and Hart insignia.  
  
Angel stared at it for a second before accepting it. "What is this, Lindsey?"  
  
"I think I'll stay here while you open it. It's self explanatory from there."  
  
The envelope was thin, and he already had an idea what was inside. A photograph. What he didn't expect was to pull out an 8 by 10 black and white.  
  
Of him and Aurora.  
  
It was taken that night she said goodbye to him. At the bar that reminded him of The Bronze. She had taken that one time to talk to him and tell him that she didn't regret meeting him. He didn't want her to continue what she was doing, but she didn't listen and he had to respect it.   
  
"Photography a new hobby of yours, Lindsey?" He said through clenched teeth.  
  
"Yes, a new interest." Lindsey snapped his briefcase shut, the sound ringing like gunshots in the silence. "Only five copies of that photograph are in existence, Angel, and they've all been delivered to their respective owners. Or at least they're about to be."  
  
He spoke with a smug, corporate manner and Angel could feel the anger rippling through him in waves, clouding his eyes and tensing his fists. "You realize the kind of danger you've now put an innocent girl in. What do you want from me?"  
  
"Actually, nothing. What happens to her is beyond you now. I just wanted to see your face when you found out." Lindsey picked up his briefcase by the handle. "And now my work day officially ends."  
  
He smiled, and turned to leave.   
  
"You know I'll save her." Angel growled at him.  
  
"And I hope you do." Lindsey said. "But don't you think you've done enough?"  
  
Angel didn't see him leave. He vaguely heard the door close, but was intent on the picture again. He didn't need guesses to figure out where the other copies of the photograph went.  
  
Aurora was in serious danger.  
  
The photograph was of him kissing her.  
  
====   
  
Cordelia's doorbell rang for the third time in two hours.  
  
"Great," she muttered as she tightened her bathrobe around her and trudged barefoot to her door. "This is just a whole big party now, isn't it?"  
  
Not contented with the doorbell, her new visitor knocked urgently on the wood. "Cordelia, it's me."  
  
Of course. Angel. He wouldn't miss this.  
  
She opened the door a teensy bit and peeked out. "Hi, Angel."  
  
He had that furrowed brow thing going, and when Angel of the stoicism was worried, it was never good. It was usually about Buffy or the apocalypse, and any trouble with those two... was never good.  
  
"Cordelia," he said, as breathless as a no-breath person could be, "You have to tell me where to find Aurora."  
  
She lifted a hand to stop him. "Angel --"  
  
"No wait, I know you promised her that you wouldn't tell me, but this is really important and her life is seriously in danger and... I know I can't make you do anything against your will but... I demand that you tell me where she is!"  
  
Aw. Sometimes he could be so uncool it was cute. "Come in." she said, opening the door wider for him and walking back into the kitchen.  
  
Angel followed her, so quickly he almost forgot to close the door behind him. "Cordelia, this is important, I really need to--"  
  
Cordelia turned around to face him. "As I was saying before the blabbermouth interrupted me -- she's already here." She pointed to her kitchen table, where Aurora was sitting on a chair, having the breakfast Dennis was whipping up. Across from her was an alert but still visibly fatigued Wesley.  
  
Aurora had been the first to arrive, around two hours ago, visibly shaken and for the first time Cordelia thought she actually looked a little afraid. She had gotten a threatening message in the mail, and because she had made that little agreement with herself never to contact Angel again, she went straight for Cordelia's.  
  
What Cordelia hadn't told Angel (yet), was how close she actually had been with Aurora since they'd first met almost four weeks ago. Lunch several times, long nights just talking about stuff -- girlie stuff. Much as she loved Angel and Wesley, it just felt good to be talking to a girl again. Sometimes she'd itch to just be bitchy and talk about spas and waxing, but somehow she knew that wouldn't go over well with the 200-year-old vampire and the British guy.  
  
It also helped that the nature of Aurora's work -- watching Angel from a distance, protecting him from his despair and intervening in case he wished to end it all -- and that she had been doing it for eight years now. She was in a strange and special position. Cordy could talk to her about people from high school and she'd know what to say. It was weird, for a while, but Cordelia got used to it, and soon it was almost like Aurora had been in Sunnydale High with her. Which was almost the truth.  
  
And she also knew Doyle. Both of them being instruments of the Powers and all.  
  
It was a strange comfort, hearing stories about Doyle. The Doyle she never knew as much as she could have.  
  
She didn't tell Angel all of this because once he found out about Aurora and what she was doing, well, he didn't like it. Aurora had put herself in considerable danger because of her calling, and in his usual self-deprecating way he insisted that she stop it because he wasn't worth it. And this was his I-told-you-so moment, now that Aurora truly was in danger.  
  
He saw her, having the scrambled eggs Dennis made, a little calmer now, her eyes less steely. He rushed to her, kneeling beside her chair, his eyes leveling with hers. "Aurora."  
  
And then Cordelia saw it -- Aurora visibly shrinked away from Angel. It's not like they were best friends now, but the body language was definitely off.  
  
Cordelia took her seat and nudged Wesley. "Eggs. Have some. Don't insult the ghost roommate."  
  
"Oh. Of course. Thank you, Dennis." Poor guy, he was still definitely out of it. She had called him over almost the moment Aurora arrived, and it was like he was seven miles from consciousness when he picked up the phone. He had just been working on that silly scroll all day and all night for weeks...  
  
"So you know," Angel said, holding both Aurora's hands now.  
  
She nodded toward the table, where the incriminating photograph lay. "I got it a few hours ago. How did you know?"  
  
"I got my own personal copy delivered. Lindsey McDonald took the picture, Aurora."  
  
Cordelia remembered that night at the bar. She had brought Angel there. "But I didn't see him there, Angel. The Peeping Tom."  
  
"Well, I'm sure he's very acquainted with the ways of the sneaky," Wesley said, to muffle a yawn. "Aurora should probably stay with one of us, Angel. Jenny Calendar's family could find out about her any time now."  
  
"She should stay with me," Angel said. "Because they already now."  
  
The steel exterior wavered a little. "How do you know that?" Aurora exclaimed.  
  
"Lindsey said only five copies of the photograph exist, and they're with their rightful owners already."  
  
Wesley held up a hand. "Aurora's family, Jenny Calendar's family, Aurora, Angel. Who's the fifth?"  
  
"Wouldn't Lindsey want a copy of his own masterpiece framed and hung somewhere?" Cordelia suggested.   
  
Angel gave her a look, *shot* her one, and that was never good too. "Probably for insurance. What matters is they know and you have to tell me what happens next, Aurora. Has anyone contacted you already about this?"  
  
"No, but it's only a matter of time."  
  
Angel gripped her hands with emphasis now, and Cordelia caught the hint of a shiver, and it wasn't because of popsicle vamp hands.  
  
"My... my family will be contacting me soon. If they have the picture, they're probably looking for me right now." She was addressing all three of them, noticeably uneasy with Angel being so close. "I expect that a spell will be performed on me, one that will officially remove me as Angel's protector, hence disable all the powers associated with it."  
  
"You won't be able to defend yourself," Wesley realized.  
  
"How are they going to protect you?" Angel asked.  
  
"They won't. If I stay with them, when I'm found everyone else is found. They have to sever all ties with me."  
  
"Never to see your family again?" Wesley was surprised.  
  
She nodded.   
  
"You're assuming the Kalderash *will* find you."  
  
"Oh they will." She was making a statement, and was only slightly distressed by it. "They know who to look for now. And they've always eventually found your protectors, Angel. Always. It's just a matter of time."  
  
"How old were you when you started this?"  
  
She smiled, almost wistfully. "Sixteen."  
  
If it was possible Angel gripped her hands even tighter, almost angrily. "You knew this would happen to you."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"You knew you would eventually die protecting me and you, at age sixteen, agreed to do it?"  
  
She winced; he was starting to hurt her hands. "I didn't agree to this, Angel, this is what I was born to do."  
  
"You always have a choice, Aurora. This is crazy, what you're doing. I don't need it."  
  
"Don't say that," she retorted, but quietly, almost pleadingly.  
  
"Hey, hey," Cordelia interrupted. "Angel, please."  
  
He reluctantly let go of her hands. "I'm sorry, I..." His tone softened, and he could see how she was distancing herself now. "How long until they perform this spell on you? The one to remove your powers."  
  
She shrugged. "I don't know. I'm not even sure if they've already done it. If my presence is required at all."  
  
"We should test it then." Wesley suggested, right before helping himself to some eggs. "Theoretically, you're safe from harm as long as you have them."  
  
"OK," Aurora let out her breath, looking around the room. "Um, oK, someone attack me."  
  
"What?" Cordelia exclaimed.  
  
"Someone attack me. Powers come on only if I'm in mortal danger."  
  
Cordelia shook her head and pointed to Angel. "Go ahead, boss."  
  
"But I can't intend to hurt you, Aurora." Angel tried to decline.  
  
"Intent doesn't matter. As long as you put my life in serious jeopardy--"  
  
Suddenly Aurora's arm shot straight up, in a split second catching by the handle a knife that was going to pierce her throat. It was too fast even for Angel, who had tried to make a grab for it but missed by a moment.  
  
Or at least, that's what Cordelia thought happened. It was all a blur, going on much too fast for her.  
  
And then, just as quickly as it happened it was over, and they were left staring at the knife in Aurora's hand.  
  
Cordelia let out the breath she didn't even realize she was holding. "Wow. Powerpuff Girl you still are then. Thank you for settling all that, Dennis."  
  
A pan with freshly cooked eggs flew right in front of them in acknowledgment.  
  
Angel was livid, of course. "Dennis, you could have seriously hurt Aurora..."  
  
Cordelia snorted. "Oh, don't blame the dead guy." Who seemed to sincerely like Aurora. He was cooking eggs and everything. The first time he saw her he even made little margaritas. As if her ghost roommate would be getting lucky in *this* lifetime.  
  
"It's fine, really. Thank you, Dennis." Aurora set down the knife on the table and sighed. "And I'm not going to be stubborn now, Angel. If you think I'm safer at the Hyperion I'll stay there with you. I just... I just really need to get some sleep. I think Wesley does too."  
  
"Oh, no, I'm totally fine," Wesley was quick to correct her, raising his fork in emphasis, only succeeding in knocking over his coffee cup. "I guess I do need some...rest. Just a little." 


	2. The Dark Side

Disclaimers in Chapter 1  
  
Send feedback please to slayerbelle@go.com  
  
Destinies  
  
by Slayerbelle  
  
  
Chapter 2  
"The Dark Side"  
  
  
"I'm sorry you're not sleeping right," Aurora said.  
  
"It's not yet sunset anyway, the light doesn't need to be bothered." Wesley replied.  
  
"What?"  
  
"It's not all sand and sea, the ground also seeps into the moon."  
  
She picked up a handful of sand from the floor of the red velvet room and dumped it in front of him, who was now sitting cross-legged as she was. "Take what you need, I only want what I have."  
  
The sand trickled between her fingers and they both watched the grains glisten like little stars.  
  
"Do you know how to swim?" she asked him.  
  
"I am light. I float anywhere."  
  
Aurora squinted. "Wesley?"  
  
"Yes, Aurora?"  
  
"Why are you here?"  
  
====  
  
Wesley was jolted awake because he heard something. Soft cursing by the hotel's front desk, which they were now using as Angel Investigations' head office.  
  
"Cordelia!" he quickly stood up and rushed to her aid. "What do you need?"  
  
He found her still on the floor, her forehead cut and bleeding a little. "Table..." she said between clenched teeth. "Damn table..."  
  
He opted to help her up first as she gulped for air. "You're bleeding, Cordelia."  
  
"I said it was the damn table," she said, touching her forehead and getting blood on her palm. "Damn! Ow."  
  
Supporting her, they both limped to the couch. Wesley heard footsteps coming down the stairs. It was Aurora, the racket had woken her up, and she quickly went for gauze and alcohol while he helped Cordelia into the couch.  
  
Was it his imagination, or were Cordelia's vision attacks getting worse? He knew it was always painful and if she was at the wrong place at the wrong time personal injury could definitely ensue, but he seemed to be picking her up off the floor a lot recently. It was actually a relief that she'd only hit her head somewhere this once -- the uncontrollable force she was rocked with seemed to leave her completely helpless to external objects with sharp corners like tables and desks.   
  
Cordelia was still trying to breathe right when Aurora came with the gauze -- he didn't even tell her where it was but count on her to know anyway.   
  
Wesley took the role of medic and gently swabbed Cordelia's temple. It was thankfully just a cut, but it was long and was like a slash across her forehead. "What did you see, Cordelia?"  
  
"Ow! Easy on the cracked skull, Wesley!" Cordelia snapped, wincing under his touch for a second. He knew better than to take offense at that -- she was just being the bitch princess. And then she got her breath back. "A kid. Swimming. Some kind of white thing grabs her from under and pulls her down. Eeew."  
  
"Do you know when this is going to happen?"  
  
"I think right now. It -- It was daytime."  
  
"Angel's not back yet?" Aurora observed. It occurred to Wesley that she must have had such a strong sense of Angel's presence -- she had just woken up and knew that Angel was nowhere in the building. Or maybe she was just guessing, and he was reading too much into it.  
  
He really needed more rest.  
  
He shook his head. "Angel's out. On a case."  
  
"An actual paying client," Cordelia said, her voice muffled a little from a bit of gauze flapping against her mouth. She spat it out and winced a little again; the alcohol was stinging. "Besides, he's not going to survive the daytime swim anyway."  
  
"I'll go," Wesley said.  
  
Cordelia exhaled, now showing genuine concern. "Are you sure? You could barely keep a coffee cup on the table this morning."  
  
"I... I've had a few hours. It's not a big deal. Where is this white demon and the child?"  
  
"Um, Malibu. Looks like Whitey had some sightseeing to do."  
  
"The beach?" Aurora suddenly asked. "I'm going with you, Wesley."  
  
He hesitated. Angel would have his head if he ever let Aurora out of the Hyperion, and they all knew it.   
  
"I had a vision earlier. While I was sleeping. I'm to perform some kind of spell." Aurora said.   
  
"He'll be very angry at me if he finds out I let you out of here."  
  
She crossed her arms right then, staring at him defiantly. "Wesley," she hissed.   
  
And then it was that time four weeks ago all over again, they were having this same conversation and he let her win, but only because he trusted her. Now her life was more seriously in danger and he didn't want that on his head.  
  
"Can't we compromise on this?" he asked. "Teach me how to do the spell."  
  
"And you'll perform it as you're swimming in the ocean to rescue the girl. That's a first for multi-tasking."  
  
"Help me out here, Aurora. I'm supposed to be keeping you safe."  
  
"You're not supposed to be doing anything for me." she said softly. "And Angel's not the boss of me."  
  
"Well he signs my paychecks," Wesley said, shaking his head. "And he was also known as the Scourge of Europe. Aurora, I'm going to have to advise against you stepping out of this place anytime soon."  
  
"I have to perform a spell to destroy the demon Cordelia saw. I'm supposed to do this."  
  
She seemed as sure of it as anything, and he felt himself relenting again. While he didn't want to get in the way of the Powers accomplishing their work, he berated himself for not having a spine.  
  
"All right," he said. "Cordelia, I'm taking the car."   
  
====  
  
He didn't realize the water was so *salty*.  
  
"Wesley!" He could hear Aurora scream, somewhere on dry land. "You have to bring it to the shore!"  
  
Easier said than done. He was sure he had the little kid by the arm, but the salt water was stinging his eyes and he couldn't open them, hence having no clue in which direction to swim. The water was choppy despite the rest of the ocean being calm so he knew the white Gvifer demon was somewhere swimming after him, probably going to take a big bite out of his leg any second now.  
  
The little girl grabbed on hard to his shirt and he felt pulled down into the water deeper -- he had his eyes closed and the lack of breath was choking him. He could still hear Aurora's muffled screams -- as well as those of the girl's horrified mother -- and all he wanted to do was take a deep breath and open his eyes. Except he'd get an eye- and lungful of salt water and that wasn't an option right now.  
  
There was a loud sound like a clap of thunder, a bright flash of white like lightning, and Wesley felt himself being pulled up very quickly. He grabbed the girl in his arms as they were sucked up into the day. In a second they broke the surface, his vision cleared and he gasped for air.   
  
He saw Aurora on the beach, glowing a scary yellow, very much in concentration. When they made eye contact, she made a labored gesture with her hand, asking him to get to the beach. The Gvifer demon was right behind him, a little pissed at the aborted meal-taking, and Wesley quickly swam beachward, girl in tow.  
  
Adrenaline really *did* make you stronger. In what seemed like seconds, Wesley was at the beach, dragging the girl and running to Aurora. She had collapsed on the sand, probably from the effort on the spell she'd just performed, and was slowly pulling herself up.  
  
The demon quickly followed them, crawling onto the sandy beach with its octopus-like body and slimy arms. Wesley threw his arms around the girl and her mother -- who had jumped on him to claim her child -- and watched as Aurora picked up a concoction of sand and water she'd made earlier.  
  
She closed her eyes, muttered something softly as the creature came closer. There was power radiating from her, Wesley could feel it scorching the air and rippling a mild heat. When she opened her eyes they were as yellow as her whole body was a minute ago.   
  
"Never again!" she screamed, and threw the sand at the creature. Only what she threw ceased to become sand but showered over the demon as a grainy blue substance that stuck to its slimy body. It hissed, and seconds later imploded in what he thought was a beautiful blue light.  
  
Aurora fell into the sand again, dropping to her knees. Wesley realized he had just done the same, distractedly accepting the thanks of mother and daughter, but too occupied with catching his breath and feeling the adrenaline fading away.  
  
Suddenly he felt really tired. So tired. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a man approach Aurora, who was lying on the sand, exhausted but still conscious. It was a man he didn't recognize, and alarm bells quickly went on in Wesley's head.  
  
It had to have been one of her family. Jenny Calendar's side or hers, he wasn't sure.   
  
He stretched out his hand and tried to say something, but he passed out on the sand a second later.  
  
====  
  
It was already sunset by the time the old man left, but the work day was only beginning for Lindsey.  
  
He gave the girl five minutes to collect her thoughts. He noticed that she returned to her sitting position on the sand, watching the sunset silently. The British guy was still unconscious beside her, and she made no move to wake him up yet.  
  
Lindsey was sitting in his car, had been sitting there for some time, waiting for Aurora to finally be alone. He'd seen the old man approach her. He'd seen her kneel in front of him as he put his hand on her forehead. The waters rose at the sudden mystical disturbance.  
  
He busied himself by reading the file on her, a thick folder lying on the passenger seat next to him. Aurora Halley. It hadn't been this thick until he had taken over the case. The file on her had been opened eight years ago, when there had been unconfirmed reports that a young girl had commissioned a demon to convince the Vampire With A Soul to seek out the Slayer in Sunnydale. At that time the file only listed a description, (brunette, five feet four inches tall, no more than 20 years of age, of Kalderash gypsy descent), and a short list of magical capabilities (simple telekenesis, possible clairvoyance, et cetera). In the month that followed his rediscovery of it, he was able to collect more information and gain a much more comprehensive view of who she was and what she was doing.   
  
Lindsey had first come across the file when he had begun clerking for Wolfram and Hart, and was intrigued by the lack of information on the girl, and the apparent diversity of her magical abilities.  
  
And then when Ralph, his doomed associate at the firm, showed up claiming he had been staked by Angel and healed by a girl, bells rang in Lindsey's head. A quick stalking, a few background checks, some anti-cloaking spells later, and he had her. He knew he had her.  
  
Five minutes. Lindsey timed it. And then he got out of the car and walked.  
  
Aurora brushed away a tear with the back of her hand as he approached her. She just looked up at him, and he knew that she recognized him.  
  
"If you wanted to see a breakdown, you should have been there when Angel lost his soul." she said dryly. "That had more tears and hair-pulling."  
  
The girl didn't deserve the usual b.s. She knew more than anyone thought she should and he had to talk to her straight. But that didn't mean he couldn't be nice about it. Lindsey took a seat near her on the sand, putting her in between him and the prone British guy, and they both faced the sunset.  
  
"You know who I am, don't you?" he said, just being sure.  
  
She laughed a little. "Of course. We have the same job, essentially. Different employers." She let that light moment pass, and then, "He hates you, you know."  
  
"You mean Angel. I wonder why that is."  
  
She gave him a lopsided grin. "Aside from the working for the devil? You refuse to be helped." She sighed. "We have that in common."  
  
"Not anymore."  
  
Aurora opened her palms and looked down at them. "You're right."  
  
They were powerless hands now, and she looked at them like she was missing a finger, and there was a sadness in her eyes that he didn't like. "Aurora, you have to remember that this was done to Angel, not to you."  
  
"That's not true," she retorted. "This was done to *me*. You realize you took away all that I do... that I live for."  
  
"It's an ax that was going to fall inevitably, you know that. And I wanted it to fall because of me. So I could have the right to offer you something."  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"A job."  
  
She looked at him like he was, well, a lawyer working for the devil. "You're insane."  
  
"Do you know what the Kalderash do to the traitors they catch, Aurora?"  
  
This caught her off guard, and he realized she didn't know. It figured she didn't know. They probably never tell them, these girls they "choose" to join their crusade. They don't tell them what's at stake, and they lead them to slaughter.  
  
Or worse.  
  
It made him angry, inside. She still thought she was doing the work of the righteous.  
  
"They make them into vampires, Aurora. And lock them in coffins. They're never fed, never attended to. They stay there forgotten only they never die. They'll turn you into the monster you harbored -- only worse because ... I don't have to tell you why."  
  
He watched her face change as he told her this. She had probably imagined already the million ways she would die -- and not once thinking it would be like this.   
  
She exhaled. "Well," she said. "I guess that's what they would consider poetic justice."  
  
"I personally think it's cheesily Anne Rice." He reached out for her with his good hand and felt her arm, skin still glowing a little. She looked like she had just performed a powerful spell. "But we can protect you from that, Aurora. If you come work for us."  
  
She shrugged off his arm, like he had burned her. "My powers are a divine gift -- for the protection of Angel. Without that I'm nothing. Not a witch, no powers. No use to you."  
  
Not only did they throw her into this suicide mission blindly, they also undermined her capabilities beyond what they gave her. These people may call themselves the forces of good, but Lindsey knew that no one was above an ulterior motive.   
  
"Not true. You were Angel's protector for eight years. Only one other person's done that for longer, Aurora. You are powerful, and in a unique way. Only your kind -- protectors of Angel -- are the kinds of witches versed in not just one kind of magic but any and all kinds. Do you realize how rare that is? Rare enough that they don't want you knowing you can do it on your own."  
  
He saw now that she seemed to be naturally stoic -- probably a result of years of hiding in the shadows. He didn't know the kind of effect his words were having on her. But he meant them, it wasn't a sales pitch.   
  
Aurora's divine calling gave her the power to protect Angel through any means necessary -- and that gave her access to all kinds of power. Most witches train years to master one aspect of their essence -- Aurora was trained to learn all as they were needed. Her adaptability was her best skill and she didn't even know it.  
  
"You don't have powers now, but that can be a temporary problem. You know we can help you with those kind of... resources. You can see why we're willing to invest in you, Aurora. There's a special kind of witch in the world, and right now you're the only one."  
  
The corners of her mouth twitched. "And do I get a pool along with my condo in hell?" she said. "You don't seriously think I'll choose being a witch over who I am."  
  
"That's the point, you're no longer that person. And admit it, this is the best choice you have right now."  
  
She shook her head. "I have Angel."  
  
"You think you do. But he can't protect you like we can. You can live on, do other things. Your life doesn't have to end here."  
  
"It doesn't have to," she echoed softly. "Someone's going to replace me, you know. As we speak. Angel will be protected for as long as he has to be."  
  
"Yeah, well, I just want to take these things one day at a time."  
  
Aurora looked off into the horizon, which by then was completely dark. "Yeah, so did I."  
  
Wesley twitched on the ground, making small muffled noises.  
  
"He's going to come to in a few minutes," she told Lindsey. "You'd better leave." 


	3. Reunion

Disclaimers in Chapter 1  
  
Send feedback please to slayerbelle@go.com  
  
Destinies  
  
by Slayerbelle  
  
  
Chapter 3  
"Reunion"  
  
  
"What do you mean she's not here?"  
  
"Please, not so loud, you'll split the *new cut on my head*," Cordelia said pointedly. Jeez, it figured. Angel returns from a day's work and the first thing he mouths off on... well, it was never about the little things, like her being hurt and stuff.   
  
He faltered a little, and finally saw the strip of gauze on her forehead. "I'm sorry... what happened? Are you OK?"  
  
She sighed. "Yeah, I'm fine. Hit my head on a table getting a vision, but what can you do? And don't go postal, OK? Aurora's going to be fine. I think."  
  
"I can't believe Wesley just let her --"  
  
"I said no going postal! Now stop pacing like a... postman. Angel, she had a vision. She had to go with Wesley. She has to do these things, she can't help it. She was chosen for this gig, you know."  
  
For some reason, what she said had been enough. Angel stopped pacing. "What did you say?"  
  
"She can't help it. She was picked for this gig. She's born for it. She's not like me, who got it by default because I happen to be the nearest pair of girl lips."  
  
It was out of her mouth before she realized it. (As usually was the case with her manner of speech.) The air shifted, she felt it. And Angel crossed the room and touched her shoulder.  
  
"Cordelia, Doyle loved you. He wanted you to have his gift because he loved you."  
  
She knew that. If not in her heart, because Aurora said so several times already. It was still hard to make light of it.  
  
So she didn't. "I know," she said softly. "What were we talking about a while ago?"  
  
"Aurora."  
  
"Oh yeah. You get off her case. You realize how much she's had to take to even agree to stay here with you? She's lost everything in the past few hours, don't you go all Mom with the telling her where to go and what to do."  
  
But he wasn't postal anymore. Bringing up Doyle had sobered him somewhat. What he did, though, was begin eyeing her suspiciously. "Cordelia... how well do you know Aurora, exactly?"  
  
Busted. "Um, well. More than you do, I guess."  
  
He gave her a look. One of those furrowed brow things.  
  
"OK! Lunch several times! She's a friend now! Why? Because she's a girlie girl, she's not a vampire or a British guy and she can talk about guys and hair and she knows almost everyone I know and she thinks Harmony's a flake too!" Cordelia paused, a little surprised at her own outburst. "You know what I mean. It's hard having no one to talk to. Not that I have no one, it's just that..."  
  
"Yeah, I know." Angel said, nodding. He really did seem to understand. "And I'm sure she appreciates it as well."  
  
"Oh sure. You know she's never been on a shopping spree *ever*, until I put her through Rodeo Drive? Well, we both couldn't afford much anyway, so we just annoyed the salespeople and capped off the day with frappuccinos. Close enough."   
  
"She needs a friend."  
  
"Yes she does." OK, so Angel really did care for Aurora. It may have been primarily out of guilt, but still. The guy really did have a heart, he was just preoccupied with being all Superman all the time. But Cordelia wanted to know something. "Why did you kiss her?"  
  
He swallowed, silent for a second. "I wanted to thank her."  
  
"There are less incriminating ways to thank people, you know. Like saying 'Thank You'."  
  
"I can't explain it... I just... She's given me so much. But it doesn't matter now."  
  
"Oh, don't you be taking that guilt trip over this too." Cordelia exclaimed, already foreshadowing the brooding to come. "She got caught because Lindsey the Lawyer From Hell pulled one on the two of you, and don't blame yourself."  
  
She might as well have been moving her lips soundlessly because she knew. When Angel chose to brood, it was for the rest of his life, which was an eternity. He didn't need this.   
  
He didn't say anything. Great, now she felt doubly bad. First Doyle, and then Aurora. That was where the paranoid Superman was coming from -- Angel felt responsible for Aurora's fate.  
  
*I'd better fix this,* Cordelia thought regretfully. "Angel, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... you know how my mouth just gets possessed--"  
  
"Cordelia, don't worry about it."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
He was lying. He wanted her to shut up now. "OK."  
  
====  
  
When Aurora opened her eyes the blond girl was standing in front of her. Wearing the same dress, but in a different color.  
  
"How embarrassing." The blond girl said.  
  
"I've had this dress for years." Aurora said.  
  
"Me too."  
  
There was a slight breeze in the red room. Just enough to lightly play with their hair. Aurora realized that they were wearing their hair almost the same way, almost the same length. The girl smiled at her, and they just looked at each other.   
  
Aurora was waiting for her to speak.  
  
"What's your name?" the girl finally said.   
  
"Aurora."  
  
"It's pretty."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
The girl looked like she wanted to say something again. Aurora waited.  
  
The girl held out her hand. "I want to introduce myself."  
  
"I already know you."  
  
"I want to introduce myself. My name is Buffy Summers."  
  
"What?" Aurora felt something on her face, and she realized it was the wind. She was in the backseat of Angel's convertible. He was driving with the top down, Cordelia on the passenger seat next to him with a scarf protecting her hair. "How long was I out?" she asked.  
  
Cordelia turned to face her. "You fell asleep? We aren't five minutes away from the Hyperion."  
  
"Oh." That happened sometimes. She'd doze off in a bus, get a complete vision, and be up before the next stop. It was an insane kind of narcolepsy. She fumbled for a pen and piece of paper -- she had some in her bag -- and wrote something.  
  
====  
  
Angel was transfixed.  
  
He brought Aurora to the Host so he could read her. He didn't realize she'd put on a great show.  
  
She held the microphone and sang like she was the only one in the room. The lights were right on her and she probably didn't see the roomful of people stunned silent.  
  
"At last/The skies above are blue  
My heart was wrapped up in clover/The night I looked at you"  
  
Lorne was ecstatic. "Angelcakes, she's terrific! Etta James by way of Diana Krall. Definitely not the Christina Aguilera chick." The Host turned away for a second to applaud. "My heart! She's taking with her my heart!"  
  
"Do you need to know anything else about her?" Angel asked.   
  
"Well even if I did need more, I wouldn't ask from you. I know this girl."  
  
Great. Everyone seemed to know her more than he did.  
  
"She was in here when you were putting Manilow to shame. Cloaked, which I told her was very rude. 'No cloaking in my establishment!' I said. Sweet girl, though. Very polite."  
  
"Well, what do you see?"  
  
"Well aren't we in a big rush tonight?"   
  
Angel accepted the drink from the bartender and held the glass for some time, not drinking.  
  
The Host stepped back. "Ho-kay. I forgot. You brood therefore you are. Well, let's see what's in the cards for your gypsy."   
  
He sat silent and they watched her sing.  
  
"Big things," The Host said.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Big things for this girl. Very big. Huge."  
  
"So she doesn't die?"  
  
"No." The Host's green nose twitched. "And yes. Let's just say there are several ways she can go here."  
  
"I'm only interested in the ways where she doesn't die."  
  
"And unless I've totally misread you, trust me when I tell you you won't want that. She's hot mystical stuff right now. You, my friend, are right in the middle of major tension around this girl. She has big things ahead of her."  
  
"That's good." He honestly couldn't tell.  
  
"Let's just say she's been approached by the Dark Side and the offer's mighty tempting." The Host laughed all of a sudden. "I just saw that movie recently -- Star Wars. It just made me very happy."  
  
The reference, however, was all but lost on Angel. "Wolfram and Hart," he muttered. They sold her out so they could bail her out. Put her between a rock and a hard place. His fist clenched around the glass and it shook, in danger of breaking.  
  
"What if she goes against them? She could stay here with me."  
  
"You're a good guy, but you're not an army." The Host said, serious now. He plucked the glass from Angel's hand. "Of all her possible destinies, the most bleak is if she stays here with you. You can't do a thing about that. Best if you lay down your sword and leave her alone."  
  
That wasn't right. He had to be able to do something. Anything. She wouldn't have been sent to him like this if he would be incapable of helping her.  
  
Aurora's song ended, and the bar filled with enthusiastic applause. The Host stood up, approached her, and kissed her hand. "She's a jazz queen, a jazz queen! Honey, my stage is yours. Please do another! Luciano! How about some Billie Holiday?"  
  
Angel found himself alone at the bar as the Host made his rounds and mingled. In the second that the lights dimmed a little, he caught Aurora's eye. She faltered for a second.  
  
*I know what you're deliberating.*  
  
OK, so he wasn't telepathic. But he knew she understood him.  
  
What did Lindsey offer her, protection? Wealth? Fame? He could be "authorized" to give her anything.  
  
"She sounds amazing," Wesley said, just arriving, sliding into the bar stool next to him. He had his notebook with him now, opened to a page with fresh new scribbles.  
  
"Anything interesting?"  
  
"As a matter of fact..." Wesley flipped through his notes. "I first would like to know why, after weeks of persuading me to drop my decoding of the Scroll of Aberjian, you now ask me to produce results."  
  
"I just got concerned."  
  
"You think it has anything to do with Aurora?"  
  
"I think..." He dared not say it, and was hoping Wesley wasn't going to make him.   
  
No such luck.  
  
"You said my soul was one with a woman's."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"A woman who is chosen."  
  
"Yes." Seeing Angel pause, it then dawned on Wesley was the fuss was about. "You're thinking it could be Aurora."  
  
*And not Buffy.* It was the other part of the sentence. As much as it pained Angel to admit it, the thought *had* crossed his mind. Ever since Cordelia had brought up Aurora's birthright.   
  
It had to explain things. Why he dreamed about her in the first place, which was how he had come to know she existed. How he broke through her cloaking spells and saw her. And how she was now in his care.  
  
Coincidences in his life were rare and far between.  
  
"I can't give you an answer to that," Wesley said. "But I did come up with more. Here... again, I warn you, this is from whatever context I could derive... The vampire's soul is one with the soul of the woman that is chosen. Liware will come to this woman, and she will receive a gift. That's what we know so far. This afternoon I was able to translate a word: harginda."  
  
"It sounds familiar."  
  
"Well, I'm sure it wasn't in regular usage by the time you were born, but it's in a lot of sacred texts from Central Asia. One of the synonyms for 'harginda' is reunion. In the end, the vampire with a soul shall be reunited with the woman who is chosen."  
  
Wesley let the words fall between them. In the silence they both could hear Aurora, still singing Billie Holiday. The Host was chatting it up with Cordelia, who, from the looks of it, was refusing to perform a number for him.  
  
Angel cleared his throat. "The Host just told me that Aurora and I would have to be apart for her to live through this."  
  
Wesley stopped reading his notes, took off his glasses, and rubbed his eyes. "Oh." Though he had steeled Angel into not hoping he it would be Buffy, it hadn't occurred to him that it might actually be someone else.  
  
"Yeah." And Angel almost asked him to drop it right there, he looked exhausted. Barely recovered from an encounter with a Gvifer demon, and Angel was asking him to hit the books.  
  
"Well, do you think it is? Her, I mean."  
  
"I don't know. But it explains a lot of things."  
  
"I don't understand."  
  
"Why she's a part of my life at all, now. I never knew her. I would have gone on with my immortality and not known her. But I do."  
  
"You think there's a reason."  
  
"I know there's--"  
  
Angel turned to the stage because Aurora had stopped singing.  
  
She was looking straight at him, and he knew something was up.  
  
With a loud, musical crash, every glass object in the bar exploded. Glasses, liquor bottles, windows. Angel and Wesley immediately hit the ground.  
  
The room was plunged into darkness. For two seconds.  
  
And by the time the lights came back on the stage was empty, and Aurora was gone.  
  
====  
  
"Oh my God," Cordelia moaned, picking herself up yet again from the floor. She was becoming an expert at this now. Duck, hit the ground face down, and wait.  
  
Of course the ground was now soaking wet with various alcoholic beverages that had been liberated from their bottles. Several concoctions had seeped into her hair. And the cashmere blouse she'd bought just two weeks ago.   
  
The bar was quiet for a second, and then everyone started to curse and shout. It was a mess, shattered glass all over like really wrong snow. As Cordelia stood up she caught a glimpse of the stage, and Aurora wasn't in it. She wasn't on the floor with the rest of the patrons either. This wasn't good.  
  
"Angel!" she cried. She bumped into a man with a huge shard of glass wedged in his arm, and she gasped, checking her extremeties. She was cut near her elbow, and boy that was going to match the gauze on her forehead, but she seemed to be OK.   
  
She caught up with Angel and Wesley by the bar. "Are you guys OK?" she exclaimed. It was near chaos now, people running out, wounded, bleeding. A fire had started in one corner of the room.  
  
They looked at each other and realized they were standing on a pool of alcohol. Angel grabbed them both and started running for the door.   
  
"Did you guys see Aurora?" she said, once outside, as she caught her breath. "She's gone."  
  
"They took her," Angel was incensed. "She knew it. She looked at me, she knew they were coming... damn it!"   
  
Wesley brushed something off his hair. "Well, this definitely would not be the work of amateurs."  
  
"Where would they take her?" Angel demanded.  
  
Wesley shook his head. "I... I don't know."  
  
"Damn it! Wesley, she must have told you something. Anything."  
  
"Wait!" Cordelia held up her hand, and fished for something in her purse. A slip of paper Aurora had handed to her just before they went into the bar. "I should have known. Damn it!"  
  
"What? What is it?"   
  
"Just a second. Ow!" She retriever her hand from her bag and realized she had cut herself on something. "God, my mirror's broken."  
  
Wesley snorted. "Cordelia, I hardly think --"  
  
"Hold that condescension one moment, British guy. I meant my mirror exploded from inside my bag. This mojo trick they pulled on us... this is serious. Oh, here it is."  
  
It was a small piece of paper that Cordelia managed to retrieve from her purse. "She told me to say this if anything ever happens to her... I think, I think it's a spell." Cordelia squinted a little, and cleared her throat. "Here goes.   
  
"Daughter of Alana, genesis yours,   
blessing is mine.   
Find my heart, find my soul,   
complete my eyes.'"  
  
OK, nothing. She saw Willow performing spells all the time and sometimes her eyes would go a different color. She felt nothing.  
  
"Maybe you need to, you know, *enunciate*," Wesley said helpfully, squinting at the paper. "Oh, I can't read this..."   
  
And then he realized that his glasses, still in his hand, were totally broken, and he was holding on to them only by the frames. "Well look at that."  
  
"OK, fine. Enunciate. I'm an actress, I can do this." Cordelia took a deep breath and read the spell like she was channeling Willow. "Daughter of Alana, genesis yours, blessing is mine. Find my heart, find my soul, complete my eyes!"  
  
Still nothing.  
  
"It doesn't work," Cordelia moaned. "Should I be doing something with my hands?"  
  
"What exactly did Aurora tell you?" Angel said, and Cordelia thought for a second he might reach out and shake her. "Try to remember what she said."  
  
"I can't... I mean, she just said to read this aloud if I found out that anything happened to her, and then she folded it like so..." In her reenactment Cordelia caught something. Another verse. "Hey! Wait. There's something else here.   
  
"Alana, genesis of the path,   
I seek your blessing.   
Look into my heart, take my cause,   
know my intentions. Lend me your essence.'"  
  
She felt it hit her. An invisible force like a push right at her chest. She took a step back, and sucked in her breath.  
  
"What?" Angel said. He instinctively reached for her, getting used now to her stumbling when she got hit with visions.  
  
She leaned against him now. "I feel all... tingly." There was a breeze against her chest. And not just against it, but inside it. Something cool was traveling inside her, from her chest to the tips of her fingers. It didn't feel like creepy crawlies inside her skin -- it was something much more pleasant, but just as strange.  
  
Cordelia didn't know if her eyes started glowing, but one look at her and Wesley figured it out.   
  
"It's a spell, a borrowing spell." He quickly took the slip of paper in her hand and squinted at it. "Aurora's given you the spell to locate her if she's abducted. But you're not a witch, the incantation would mean nothing to you, so she gave you a spell to borrow the essence of a witch..."  
  
"So you could perform the spell," Angel finished for him. "Cordelia, quick, finish it."  
  
"Daughter of Alana, genesis yours,   
blessing is mine.   
Find my heart, find my soul,   
complete my eyes."   
  
The breeze hit her in the chest and she fell back into Angel again. The cool crawly feeling radiated up into her face, her eyes. Cordelia half expected the pain of her visions but it wasn't like that at all. She felt, well, like she was high on sugar. Or cough medicine. There was a cloud around her head but then there was...  
  
Her eyes flew open. "I see her!" she gasped. "She's, she's in a car. With a guy. They're turning left at Juno. Heading into Terra." She could see it when she closed her eyes, superimposed on the darkness, like she was a third person there.  
  
Next thing she knew Angel had them all in the car.  
  
Cordelia liked this brand of vision seeing. They were much clearer. She could control how she saw them -- she would just close her eyes and it'd be there. And it was positively pain-free. Plus, they were not jump cuts straight out of an indie flick -- they were fluid, continuous, as if she was right there with Aurora. She could only see, though, and didn't know if Aurora was hurt or scared. But Cordelia assumed she must be. Aurora must have had some idea what they were going to do to her -- she was resolved about her fate before, but now she wanted to be rescued.  
  
Well, she came to the right brooding vampire.  
  
Cordelia closed her eyes again to see where Aurora and her abductor were now.  
  
"What the hell?" she suddenly said.  
  
"What?" Angel yelled, just as he turned the corner she last told him to take.  
  
She closed her eyes again, just to be sure. Aurora was inside a room that Cordelia found strangely familiar. There was a lamp on one table... a red velvet chair near the door...  
  
"She's at the Hyperion." Cordelia announced, her brow furrowed in confusion. "In one of the rooms upstairs. I think on the second floor, I used that room before."  
  
"At the Hyperion?" Wesley echoed. "She was abducted right in our presence only to be... wait, Angel, stop."  
  
"I'm not stopping the car, Wesley." He growled, turning into their street.   
  
"No, wait, he's right!" Cordelia said, grabbing Angel's shoulder from the backseat. "We've got to plan this. She's live bait. We can't just barge in there, that's exactly what they want!"  
  
The hotel was in sight now, and Angel screeched to a stop right in front of it. "Well, they're going to get what they want just this once. She's in trouble." At that, he flew out of the car and started running.  
  
Great, now he was being all paranoid Superman. Cordelia jumped out of the car, as did Wesley, and ran after him. She tried to remember where the weapons were -- (Oh yeah, *inside* the freaking hotel) -- but if Aurora was on the second floor they might have enough time to get stuff from the weapons closet.  
  
Angel was at the door in less than a heartbeat. He pulled the huge double doors open, but was halted. A man was standing at the doorway.  
  
"Just in time," he said.   
  
He raised his hand, and burst of energy lifted Cordelia and Wesley off their feet and threw them up and onto the ground.  
  
"What do you want?" Angel demanded.  
  
The man grinned. "Just twenty minutes of your time." 


	4. Predetermined Doom

Disclaimers in Chapter 1  
  
Send feedback please to slayerbelle@go.com  
  
Destinies  
  
by Slayerbelle  
  
  
  
Chapter 4  
"Predetermined Doom"  
  
  
Cordelia didn't know how long she was out, but it couldn't have been very long. She found herself on the ground in front of the hotel. Wesley was just getting on his feet as well.  
  
"Where are they?" she cried.  
  
He was shaking his head. "Um, upstairs. I... I saw them, I wasn't knocked unconscious but I couldn't move. The man performed a spell on Angel... I'm not sure..."  
  
Oh great. If that meant Angel was incapacitated somehow, and the fate of all would be dependent on her and Wesley... "Weapons," Cordelia said, and when they got to the closet she whipped out an ax and stake to arm herself.  
  
The second floor was eerily silent, save for Wesley and Cordelia's running. She closed her eyes to see what specific room Aurora was in, but the vision was gone. "Damn," she cursed softly.  
  
"What?" Wesley whispered.  
  
"I can't see her anymore."  
  
"Well don't worry because we found her."  
  
Cordelia followed where he was pointing and saw the man standing in front of a room at the end of the hallway.  
  
"Be careful, he's a powerful warlock." Wesley cautioned.  
  
"Yes, I know that from the huge invisible push that knocked me out," she retorted.  
  
The man turned around and saw them approaching. He was a tall man, dark, good looking. Cordelia thought he didn't look a day older than forty, but with all the immortal good looking guys around, that wasn't an indication at all.  
  
"You know that won't work with me," he told them smugly.  
  
Cordelia's fist clenched around the ax's handle anyway. "Yeah, well, we can always try."  
  
Wesley stepped nearer. "Where is Angel?"  
  
The man nodded to the closed door right behind him. "He's in there. With the traitor."  
  
"What?" Cordelia asked. "But he'll just bust her out of there. What in the hell are you trying to...?"  
  
Wesley picked up on her train of thought. "You did something to him."  
  
"Not a very original thing, I'm afraid. But after watching you in LA for over a year, we managed to pick up a thing or two."  
  
"What are you talking about?" Cordelia demanded.  
  
The man smiled almost serenely. "Temporary bliss. It took me a while to perfect the spell, but now I have and here we are."  
  
Cordelia felt a chill in her stomach. She sensed Wesley brace himself beside her. "If I didn't make that clear the first time, what the hell are you talking about?"  
  
"A little something we picked up from watching you. Apparently there are special circumstances where bliss can cause Angelus to lose the soul, only to have it return after said circumstances wear off."  
  
She turned to Wesley, getting pissed now that she felt like she was going to have to ask it a third time. "What the hell?"  
  
Wesley gave her a look. "The actress. What's her name. She gave Angel a drug and it caused temporary bliss."  
  
"Oh right. And then Angelus..." Cordelia's eyes widened. "You made a spell to make him lose the soul? Doesn't that totally betray the purpose of the original curse? Are you people demented or something?"  
  
He smiled at her again, looking very sinister. "You know nothing about our purposes, Ms. Chase."  
  
So many wheels were turning in her head that she was having trouble keeping up.   
  
The man looked familiar. Did she know him from somewhere?   
  
He'd just cast Angel a spell to lose his soul. And locked him in a room with Aurora.  
  
Didn't he want to kill Aurora?  
  
And then it all came crashing down on her, all at the same time.  
  
"You look like Jenny Calendar." Realization number 1. "You must be like... a brother or something."  
  
"Well done, Ms. Chase."  
  
"You want to kill Aurora." Realization numbers 2 and 3. "But you want Angel to do it for you."  
  
"Because Angelus would be all too willing to finish her off," Wesley continued. "How long does the spell last?"  
  
"Twenty minutes." The man replied. "A very complicated spell. Didn't have too much time to test it. But we'll find out if it works, won't we?"  
  
Twenty minutes.  
  
Meaning Angel, when he returned to himself, would be finding Aurora's dead and bleeding body in the room locked in with him, and will remember that he caused it.  
  
Cordelia felt the disgust rise up in her mouth, so strong she could actually taste it. "You'll destroy him," she said.  
  
====  
  
"I'm locked in a hotel room with a beautiful woman. What do I do?" he asked her.  
  
Aurora steeled herself again, willing her body not to shake so much. Just minutes ago she was sitting on the floor, afraid that her slightest movement would jar Angel awake.  
  
She knew once the body on the floor opened his eyes, he wouldn't be Angel.  
  
She had tried reciting the ritual of restoration, maybe counteract the spell that had just been performed on Angel. But it was an incantation that fell flat. She not only didn't have the necessary materials (like that Orb, she knew there was an orb involved), she also was no longer a witch. Incapable of channeling the power. At the moment she was a twenty-four year old girl shaking at her impending doom, and that was all she was.  
  
Something wet dropped on her palm. Was she crying? She was. She couldn't feel her face but she knew she was crying. She most likely deserved this. It was her last attempt at saving herself that led Angel to where she was. Led Angel right in the path the Kalderash wanted.  
  
It wasn't fair. *They can't win this. They can't always win this.*  
  
Angelus hovered over her, pacing around the small room. "You got to give a hand to those gypsies, Aurora. They know how to show their guests a good time."  
  
Of course she'd seen Angelus before. She'd been around to see him lose his soul the first time, but never had the pleasure of meeting the monster face to face. She had nothing but love for Angel, but this -- this creature with the cold eyes was like another being entirely. She could feel he was different. "This isn't about you, Angelus. This is about punishing me."  
  
It was in the eyes. Without the vamp face Angelus looked the same, except for the eyes. Which looked at her menacingly now. He grabbed her arms roughly and lifted her to her feet.  
  
"That may be true, but as long as we're here..." He was against her face now, eye to eye. He smelled the same, like he was still Angel. Aurora felt her body betraying her, responding to the monster in the ways he wanted.   
  
"Now what is that, gypsy? Is that fear?" he taunted.  
  
"I'm not afraid of you," she retorted.  
  
"That's not what your body's saying, sweetheart." Angelus tightened his grip on her arms and pressed her back against the wall. "Let me tell you what your body says."  
  
"It's saying 'Let go of me, you psycho.'"  
  
He laughed, and pushed her again, banging her head against the wall. She let out a small sound of pain, and she knew he loved it and she hated herself for it. "You like this, don't you, sweetheart? You always wanted to be this close to me."   
  
Aurora felt the back of her head aching, but dared not utter a sound when he started nuzzling her neck. He was smelling her. She braced herself for the teeth against her skin, but apparently it wasn't time yet.   
  
A window of hope. She knew it was a spell that was going to wear off soon. If she could just get him talking the whole time...  
  
"Now, here's what your body's telling me, gypsy." He whipped his head from her neck and was in her face again. "You want me to thank you."  
  
Her eyes widened, and before she stopped herself she was issuing the quick denial. "No, I don't--"  
  
"Because there aren't any saints anymore, are there, Aurora?" he said, pinning her to the wall by the shoulder with one hand. "Nobody does anything for free. Especially not you."  
  
"You don't know anything about me," she managed to say.  
  
His other hand clamped over her mouth for a second, only to shut her up, and then he let go. "You didn't watch over the pathetic soul boy your whole life from the goodness of your heart, gypsy. You want my gratitude. You think you did a spanking good job, and you want the credit and the glory."  
  
The other hand traveled to her neck, and she had to strain against it to reply. "You're not the one I was watching over."   
  
"I'm not arguing metaphysics with you, gypsy." He was looking at her neck now, his hand against it, fingers scratching her skin.   
  
Did he know what he was sent here to do? Aurora's heart leapt, panicking, and she knew he felt that change in her circulation.  
  
"Don't do it," she coughed out. "You're falling right into their trap."  
  
It began to dawn on him then. With a push, Angelus let go of her briefly, took a step back. And started laughing. Air flooded into Aurora's lungs and she wheezed, not even realizing until then how hard he had been choking her.  
  
"You Kalderash people... you are just priceless! If I could just have you all in little jars and just watch you torment each other all day..." He was amused, looking at her as she slumped against the wall now, no defenses except her resolve. At least she still had her resolve. She was not afraid of Angelus -- at least in her head -- and she wasn't going to beg for her life.  
  
She had prepared herself for that much, at least.  
  
"So that's what they do to people like you, Aurora. They get someone like me and to turn you into creatures of the night."  
  
"You can just kill me." she said coldly. "I'm not afraid."  
  
The demon was still amused. "But that's not the point, is it? That's not what I'm here for. And look at why I'm here, gypsy. I wouldn't go congratulating myself about my righteous work, if I were you."  
  
*Angelus does this. He hurts people like this. Don't take it personally.*  
  
She lifted her chin defiantly at him. "I did what I'm supposed to do. I have no regrets."  
  
"Really now?" He took a step closer to her. She didn't have the strength to fight back, but she braced herself anyway. "Not even the gypsy teacher?"  
  
"I mourn Jenny Calendar's death every day."  
  
"As you should, sweetheart. You were very involved in it."  
  
It was almost the same way her father said it years before, in a tone laden with pain and disappointment. She tried to swallow back the memory. If she started dwelling on it again now and was vamped, she would dwell on it forever.   
  
Though she was never punished for anything Angelus had done in that span of time, she had always felt that her family deemed her responsible. They talked about it only once and then dismissed it, but she felt the flak. To her father, she apologized. To herself, she justified it with the good that loving Buffy did for Angel.   
  
To Angelus, now, she said nothing.  
  
He didn't expect an answer. "Not even your own fate."  
  
"You decide my fate tonight, Angelus. The regret will not be mine."   
  
All she heard was a growl and a whoosh of air, and in a second she was on her feet again, against the wall, his hand on her throat. "There's something you have to understand about the world, Aurora. We all share the blame." He yanked her away from the wall now, almost off her feet. "Remember this. I decide your fate in this room, but you brought all of us here. You predetermined your own doom, and you'll get your wish."  
  
Angelus didn't puncture necks when he fed, he tore at them. Aurora felt the searing pain on her skin. She gasped, finding herself unable to scream. She remember how she used to be strong. She had fought off vampires before, without even a thought. Now it took all of her strength to clench her fists and pound at the invicible enemy.  
  
Against her chest, her heart was fighting. Trying to give her enough to fight back, but all it was doing was giving Angelus bigger gulps.   
  
*I should do something.*  
  
And she tried. Her free hand moved upward in a sorry attempt to do something, anything. Her heart was desperate now, it was pounding in her ears, she could feel blood rushing out of her. Hands in fists, lips mouthing words, mind remembering all the spells she could use to save her life...  
  
Drums, drums in her ears. Her heart fighting, pounding, demanding she do something.   
  
Did she scream? Or did she just hear that in her head?   
  
And then silence. The drums stopped. It was like she reached the peak and started falling... not crashing to the ground, but fluttering, like a leaf. Her heart slowed down, so much that she wasn't aware of it anymore.   
  
Cool air hit her neck. Angelus had let go of her, had he not been holding her she would have fallen to the floor. There was a white haze over everything she could see, and numbness in everything she could feel. She was aware that she was moving. Angelus had lain her down on the hotel room bed.  
  
He hovered over her now, knowing full well that she was barely alive but still conscious. "There's another thing your body told me it wants, Aurora. And that's me."  
  
He used his fangs to tear a gash in his wrist. "You want me to live forever, don't you? Give it a try, see how much you like it." She tasted his blood on her lips, through her teeth. She felt so cold.  
  
And then the drums came again. A banging, very insistent, but soft... going on somewhere far away. 


	5. Only The Beginning

Disclaimers in Chapter 1  
  
Send feedback please to slayerbelle@go.com  
  
Destinies  
  
by Slayerbelle  
  
  
  
Chapter 5  
"Only the Beginning"  
  
  
"Angel! Aurora!" Cordelia pounded her fist on the door. "Open up!" She swung her ax and chipped part of the door. "Wesley, help me out here."  
  
"Cordelia, no!"   
  
She stopped swinging. "What? Get up from the floor, Wes, and help me out here!"  
  
"Cordelia, wait! Angel might still be soulless. If we open the door now, he attacks us and we're both dead."  
  
"If we don't get him away from Aurora she'll be bled dry -- if that hasn't happened already!"  
  
"All I'm saying is we need a better plan here, or we're all dead."   
  
"Well you better think of something before I break down this door." Cordelia lifted her arm and swung, splintering the wood a little more. "Which is taking forever. Why don't you think while swinging *your* ax too?"  
  
"It fell over the balcony." He said, pointing. "Stop swinging, Cordelia."  
  
Figured. And he didn't really *have* to attack the gypsy man, the guy was just waiting the spell out. But Wesley believed the guy lunged at him, so they went into attack mode. Cordelia thought it was stupid, Wesley could have been turned into a toad. Good thing the guy turned out to be as normal as the rest, going down quickly with a blunt blow to the back of the head.  
  
Her arm hurt. She stopped swinging the ax and Wesley took that time to kick at the door. It broke, but didn't give.  
  
"Do you hear anything?" he asked her.  
  
"Voices. But now nothing. Angel! Don't suck her blood!"   
  
He sneered sarcastically as he kicked at the door again. "Yes, that will help, Cordelia."  
  
"Well it's not like your being helpful with the not getting ourselves killed when we break through this door plan -- wait."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Aurora's spell! It borrows witch power from like a Mother Witch, right?"  
  
"The borrowing spell."  
  
"I can do that again, right?" Cordelia fumbled her pockets for the slip of paper. "I can borrow the power again, right? Erm...  
  
"Alana, genesis of the path,   
I seek your blessing.   
Look into my heart, take my cause,   
know my intentions.   
Lend me your essence."  
  
It hit her again, the cool breeze inside her chest. Radiating from inside her, traveling to her fingertips.   
  
Wow, she could get used to this.  
  
"Daughter of Alana, genesis yours,   
blessing is mine.   
Find my heart, find my soul,   
complete my, my... hands!"  
  
The breeze hit her again, knocking her back a few steps. The cold rushed to her hands, circulating around inside it like blood, rejuvenated blood.  
  
"Oh this is it!" she cried to Wesley. "Get out of the way!" She lifted an arm and struck, hitting the door with her fist. It broke open, falling away from its hinges.  
  
*Oh that was so cool.* Cordelia barely stretched a muscle in doing that, and suddenly she was getting why Buffy seemed all righteous and uppity sometimes. This superhero strength demanded respect, it really did. Cordy was getting exhilarated just by being in the presence of it.  
  
And then her heart fell as she stepped into the room. Was she too late?  
  
"Get away from her!" She cried, throwing herself at Angelus. She was fast as well -- one moment he was on top of Aurora on the hotel bed, his wrist to her mouth, the next he and Cordelia were a heap on the other side of the room. From the corner of her eye she saw Wesley rush into the room. She didn't think he'd be attacking Angelus, Scourge of Europe, unarmed like that, so he was probably going for Aurora.  
  
Cordelia pushed herself back on her feet, and waited for Angelus.  
  
He tossed a look at her, and laughed.  
  
A chill ran up her spine. She hated that laugh.  
  
"Did you give her enough?" She demanded.  
  
"Cordy, Cordy, Cordy." Angelus rose to his feet. "What's this? You playing superhero now?"  
  
Her fist flew, hitting him in the jaw and sending him flying against the wall. She wasn't even breaking a sweat. "Did you give her enough?"  
  
"Whoa, what, you want to hurt me, Cordelia?"  
  
"Just slowing you down. You're going to get your soul back soon. You come near me and it's going to hurt you more, believe me." She took a step closer, eyes burning. "Now tell me. Did. You. Give. Her. Enough."  
  
He touched his mouth, and for the first time she noticed that she wounded him. He licked his own blood off his hand. "She'll never get enough of me."  
  
"Wesley!" Cordelia yelled, not taking her eyes off the monster. "How is she?"  
  
"I think she's alive," she heard him say. "But we need to get her to a hospital--"  
  
Cordelia saw Angelus' body jerk forward and she gasped, readying her fist. She thought he was going for her throat but he fell on his knees instead, convulsing softly. His hand reached out to her for support but she jumped out of the way, so he fell to the floor. He sounded like he was choking, choking with his undead non-breathing.  
  
"The spell." Cordelia said.   
  
Angelus lifted himself up on one arm and she braced herself for more hitting. And then she saw it. His eyes lit up, like something went back into him. He gasped.  
  
There were tears in his eyes.  
  
"Cordelia?" he whispered.  
  
"Angel!" She knew it was him, and not just because she knew him that well. The power that was in her, it was like it knew this was a friend. The cold feeling spilled away from her fingertips like water, she could feel it draining away from her.   
  
She stumbled a bit, like the floor underneath her became less solid. Her body was still tingling all over.  
  
Which was probably nothing compared to the spell hangover Angel was experiencing right now.   
  
*Oh God. He'll remember what he did.* Cordelia quickly was at his side, helping him up. "Angel, you OK?"  
  
"Cordelia!" Wesley hissed. She looked up and saw that he was half out the door, Aurora in his arms. "Hospital, now!"  
  
Angel's mouth was still cut and bleeding. He touched it, and tasted two different kinds of blood. If he didn't remember what happened, he certainly did now. He gasped softly, and knees buckling he fell to the floor again, dragging Cordelia with him.  
  
"Hey, take it easy, fella, not Superwoman anymore." she said.  
  
"Cordelia!" Wesley yelled now. "I can't drive. Broken glasses and all."  
  
"Oh right. Oh God." She let go of Angel and he didn't get up. "Angel, we just have to... you'll be ok, right?"  
  
Their eyes met. "Take care of her," he said. "Go now."  
  
"Of course," Cordelia didn't want to leave him, he seemed like he was in shock. She didn't want to ask either, but she had to. "Angel, wait. You have to tell me how much she drank."  
  
The memory was coming back to him and he flinched visibly. "A -- lot. She drank a lot. I don't know if it's enough, but it was more than... I don't..."  
  
"Cordelia!" Wesley yelled from the hallway.  
  
"Go," Angel said firmly.  
  
She hated to see him suffer. He didn't deserve any more, 250 years of pain was already bearing down on him. So Cordelia ran out of the room and didn't look back.  
  
====  
  
He was at the hospital by nightfall.  
  
The spell had some kind of burnout effect on him. Cordelia ran out of the hotel room and the next thing he knew he was unconscious for the better part of the day. At least it had been the dreamless kind of blacking out, and it delayed his disgust at himself at least a few more hours.  
  
He bought flowers.  
  
Wesley had called him from the hospital to let him know Aurora was all right, but didn't say any more. He found the room, saw that the door was open. He stood at the doorway, watching them. Cordelia was at Aurora's bedside and they were talking quietly. Aurora turned to him as soon as he got there. He had a feeling that she still had a sense of his presence, if not out of power then out of habit.  
  
"Angel," she said softly.  
  
Cordelia looked up. "You just missed Wesley. He went back to the hotel, something about the Scroll."  
  
"Yeah, he said he'd be working on that." Angel tentatively took a step forward, placed the vase of flowers on the small table at the foot of the bed.  
  
Aurora was looking at him, but wasn't saying anything. He didn't know what to say. All he could do was look at the bandage on her neck. And remember how soft it was, and how her blood was...  
  
"Eherm," Cordelia cleared her throat. "I have to, um, go and help Wes with the Scroll thingy." She squeezed Aurora's arm. "Remember what I said, OK? And call me. As often as you can." She kissed Aurora on the forehead before standing up.   
  
He hadn't seen Cordelia with a friend like this in so long. Or possibly never.   
  
She gave him a look as she passed him. "Can I speak to you a minute? Outside?"  
  
They were barely out of the open doorway when she engulfed him in a big hug. "We thought... we thought the worst," she admitted into his chest once they were safely out of Aurora's sight and earshot. "She wasn't moving, her eyes were just open... it was scary."  
  
He held her close for a second, not able to respond. He could remember it, all of it, how he had not just violated her physically but... Self-loathing was beginning to well up in his throat again.  
  
Cordelia sniffled and broke away from him. "Stop it," she demanded. She swatted him on the chest. "Stop it! It wasn't you. It was that Kalderash guy and their horrible sense of justice. You were played, Angel. This is not your fault."  
  
"Cordelia, let's not talk about this now," he said deliberately. "Tell me what happened when you got her here."  
  
She paused, not liking how he shut her out. But she cleared her throat and replied anyway. "She had a faint pulse, and Wesley demanded that they do a blood transfusion."  
  
"Did she need it?" The actual act was a blur to him, but he could remember how long he drank from her. It was long. And he didn't hold back.  
  
Cordelia shrugged. "We didn't know how the whole thing worked, I mean, if we could, like, stop her from turning if we just gave her enough human blood."  
  
"Did she die at any time during the night?"  
  
A weird question, but a valid one for people in their line of work.  
  
"I think her heart stopped for a second, but they brought her back. Don't worry, we checked this morning. She didn't burst into flame after we opened the windows on her." Cordelia let out a jagged breath. "It was scary. I didn't understand half of what the doctor was saying but Wesley did and he looked really worried. He tells me it's a wonder she survived, the doctors didn't know she would, or something."  
  
"What did you tell the doctors? They must have asked about... her neck..."  
  
"Um, I think Wesley said wild dog," Cordelia checked her watch. "I know you two have to talk. I'll just exit quietly, and actually go help Wesley with his excuse for leaving you two alone." She hugged him again, and kissed his cheek as she left. "Oh, and if anyone asks, Wesley's her husband and I'm her sister."  
  
====  
  
It was like they were just there, looking at each other for hours.  
  
She had rehearsed so many speeches in her head, so many different ways to tell him... and then last night happened, and they were all out the window.  
  
"You hurt me." She said softly. It wasn't an accusation.   
  
He had been playing with the flowers with his idle hands. "I... I didn't mean to."  
  
"I know that." Aurora sighed. "Of all people, you know I'd know that."  
  
"I'm very sorry, I can't apologize enough."  
  
"I don't want you to." Aurora absently touched the bandage on her neck. It stung a little, she could feel the wound was only beginning to heal. "Look, this is going to be the last conversation we're going to have for a long time. Can we just junk the awkward apologies now?"  
  
There was that pain again on his face, that deep pain that never went away. It hurt that she was another statistic. She didn't want to be.  
  
"Angel," she tried again, gentler now. "I just... Look. It's a cop-out, trying to convince you that Angelus is not you. Because you don't believe that anyway."  
  
There was a flicker of a protest in his eyes, but she raised a palm to shut him up.  
  
"You don't believe that. You suffer for all that Angelus did because you did it. And no one can convince you otherwise, so I won't bother anymore."   
  
Her voice was coming out a little hoarse, and because of that what was coming out of her mouth was an abridged version of what she was thinking... but she had to say these things.   
  
She cleared her throat with difficulty, and started again. "That said, you hurt me last night. I know you killed me. I won't ever forget it. But I don't want to be another one of your regrets. So I don't want you to ever mention last night to me again, unless you know that mentioning it will make you feel better, permanently. OK?"  
  
Angel let go of the flowers. "OK." And then he was silent.  
  
She looked at him, and knew he understood her. Aurora sighed. "OK then. Is there something else you want to say on this last conversation of ours?"  
  
"Are you going to work for Wolfram and Hart?"  
  
Now that caught her off guard, again. "What? The Host, did he see that?"  
  
"He did, but I guessed as much too. What did they offer you, Aurora?"  
  
She laughed softly, and then stopped because she felt like she was tearing her stitches. "Everything."  
  
"You don't have to do this. I can -- I'm sure Wesley and I can find some spell to counteract... I mean, we can try to protect you, I know we can." He noticed the difficulty she was having talking, so he slowly made his way to her side, occupying the stool Cordelia had used.  
  
"And while you do that we'll be forced to re-enact last night's drama in much a Groundhog Day manner, until we get it right." She said, smiling thinly. "I don't think I'm up to that, Angel."  
  
There was again that pain, and she saw him searching his head for something, anything to offer her. He gently grabbed her hand and tried to make a final plea. "You know you can't trust them, Aurora. They're going to protect you for as long as you're useful to them--"  
  
"Relax, Angel." She squeezed his hand back. "Not working for Wolfram and Hart. I'm leaving, but I'm going to Sunnydale."  
  
"Sunnydale?" Now that was out of left field for him.  
  
"I know. One hell for another, right?"  
  
"Did you... did you get a vision?"  
  
She nodded. "Yes. In much the same way I did when I started with you. Looks like I haven't ruined my destiny after all."  
  
"You didn't ruin anything, Aurora."  
  
"Oh, let's not. Please." Aurora shook her head vehemently. "I know I'm much to blame for all this drama. I was afraid that when I met you, I lost track... I forgot why I was doing this."  
  
"I don't understand."  
  
"I loved knowing you." Aurora said. "I loved being in your life, and not anonymously. For the longest time I wondered what it would be like, because when you touch people, their lives change. And now I know, and I have to pay the price."  
  
"And your life has changed." he said, sadly.  
  
"I know I'll eventually come to a point where I won't regret it." She lifted a hand tentatively, softly touching his forehead with the tips of her fingers. She waited for a moment, and then sighed.   
  
It was the same way she touched him when they first met, but without the power he saw and felt nothing, just her.  
  
"Nothing," she said.  
  
"It's just magic." he said. "You'll get it back."  
  
"Yeah, and the Slayer now. She must be up for much darkness if I'm being recruited to help her."  
  
He squeezed her hand again. "It's good you'll be around to protect her."  
  
"If I help her make it to your Shanshu, I'll die fulfilled."  
  
"But nothing changes for you. The Kalderash will still be after you."  
  
"Yes, but in Sunnydale I'll have my powers back. They can't back me into a corner that easily."  
  
"Why are you doing this?" He asked, obviously a little overwhelmed. "Wolfram and Hart is giving you a choice where you don't have to run."  
  
She smiled at him. "I know. I'm sure there's even a decent car plan there," she said wryly. "But I was given a choice. And I choose to do this. Now I know that I do this not because of you, but because it's the right thing to do. And that makes me feel good about myself again."  
  
"I admire that in you," Angel confessed. "I think you're being irrational, but I admire that in you." He gently tucked his hand behind her head and drew her to him. He placed a soft kiss on her forehead. "Thank you, Aurora."  
  
She let her head rest on his chest and he could hear her softly sobbing.  
  
====  
  
"Were you able to say goodbye to her?" Angel said, getting back to the hotel and catching Wesley working on the Scroll of Aberjian again.  
  
Wesley looked up from an armful of notes. "Oh to Aurora? Yes, yes I was. So, Sunnydale, eh? We should probably give her a going-away present. Like an ax."  
  
Angel set his coat down on a chair and shook his head. "I'm always the last to know around here, aren't I?"  
  
"Yes, well, you do get testy and high-and-mighty about her life choices."  
  
"Wesley," Angel said, taking a chair on the kitchen table. "Tell me about when you brought her to the hospital. Cordy said you demanded a blood transfusion."  
  
"Oh." Wesley took off his glasses -- his spare pair -- and started cleaning them on the sleeve of his shirt. "I did. She looked like she had lost a lot of blood, and her pulse was so weak... but by the time we got there, the doctors said she was stabilizing. They said she didn't need a transfusion."  
  
"What are you talking about?" Angel demanded. "I know she couldn't have survived that..."  
  
"They said she was stabilizing, I was as puzzled as you were." Wesley shrugged. "I just told them she had a blood disease and it was imperative that they try a transfusion, and they did, but eventually they told me they stopped because she didn't need it. I don't know what happened but she literally came back to life some time during the night, and on her own."  
  
"Because she's meant for bigger things," Angel said softly, more to himself.  
  
"I agree. So this morning I went back here and decided to work on the scroll again, and I found this." Wesley took the top notebook and turned it over for Angel to see. "I didn't notice this before, but the word 'Liware' in written in the same manner, meaning this kind of cursive inclination, as 'vampire with a soul' and 'woman who is chosen'. It means 'liware' is not an inanimate or abstract object, but a proper noun, a--"  
  
"It's a person. Aurora."  
  
Wesley let the realization settle for a moment. "Well in no specific terms, and I maintain that these people in this prophecy could mean any other two people in your life who are not Buffy and Aurora, but let's admit that the coincidence is uncanny."  
  
"I don't get many coincidences in my life, Wesley."  
  
"And another thing. The liware leaves the vampire with a soul to go to the woman who is chosen, to give her a gift. This gift is apparently necessary for the harginda -- the reunion -- of the vampire and the woman to take place. I've figured out what it is."  
  
Angel waited as Wesley paused to take a breath.  
  
Wesley pointed to a scribble on the notebook. "The gift is life."  
  
He saw what Wesley was pointing to. A rough translation of the word, and the synonyms Wesley had jotted down.   
  
Years. Time. Energy. Life.  
  
Aurora was going to have her work cut out for her.  
  
====  
  
The house was bigger than he thought it would be.   
  
OK, so the only other experience he had with a slayer was Faith, and she wasn't the split-level house and picket fence type. He was actually glad to know they came in many packages.  
  
He walked to the front door and rang the doorbell. He made sure to come by late in the afternoon. He didn't have time to do the legwork on her schedule, didn't know her routine yet, but at least found out whether or not she'd be home that day. He didn't have the luxury of time, not right now.  
  
He caught his reflection on the window and straightened up his tie, just as the door opened.  
  
"Yeah?" The blond said.   
  
She was smaller than he'd expected, looked a little frailer than Faith. That was probably the most intriguing about her -- all that strength for that small a physical entity. No wonder she gave Angel grief.  
  
"Good afternoon," he said congenially. "I have a package for Ms. Buffy Summers?"  
  
"That's me," she said, palm open now, waiting for the pen, a little disarmed at the sight of the attractive messenger. "Where do I sign?"  
  
"Oh, this doesn't really require signing." He handed her a thin brown envelope.  
  
"OK." She accepted it slowly, frowning with the tiniest hint of suspicion. Noticing that the envelope was too thin to fit a bomb or any kind of exploding contraption, she shrugged and read the insignia on the return address. "Wolfram and Hart, Attorneys at Law. Yeesh. Are you a lawyer?"  
  
"Yes." She also had more people skills than Faith, which he appreciated. He held out his palm and they shook hands. "Lindsey McDonald."  
  
"Buffy Summers, but that you already know. This envelope doesn't look like much, Lindsey. Why are Wolfram and Hart's lawyers bringing it over to my home personally?"  
  
She was flirting. A little. He was amused, slightly delighted. He didn't expect it. "Personal project," he said.   
  
He heard a noise from inside the house and a girl younger than Buffy peeked into the foyer. "Who's that?" the teenager asked.  
  
"Excuse me," Buffy said. To the girl, in a very big sisterly voice, "Inside, Dawn. I'm talking to a stranger."  
  
"Monster?"  
  
"Lawyer."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Lindsey chuckled silently as the girl did as Buffy said.   
  
She turned to him, shaking her head. "I'm sorry. Little sisters, you know...but they know their monsters, God bless them."  
  
He smiled. "You're absolutely right."  
  
"Anyway. Thanks for bringing this over. Whatever it is."  
  
"My pleasure, Buffy Summers."  
  
He walked back to car feeling pleased with himself. Under the circumstances. He was hoping he wouldn't have to give his personal copy of the photograph away, but Aurora had given him no choice.  
  
He couldn't blame her, though. They all did what they had to do. He knew she wasn't going to blame him for that either.  
  
  
THE END. 


End file.
